Austin
by threeletterwords
Summary: After a particularly brutal case, the team return home... only to be greeted by a fate much worse than a simple colorado spree. They now rely on each others strengths and profiling abilities more than ever.   Written for my friend, and partner in crime.
1. Chapter 1

Reid pulled the covers over his head with a muffled sigh of exhaustion. He was drained. The team had just returned from a week long case in Colorado, that had been especially taxing on all of them. It seemed to be a consensus that the cases with children were always most difficult. Finally... Hotch had rewarded them with a full 4 days off. Luxury. The 7 of them had eagerly went their separate ways, after hasty goodbye's, and scribbled notes on unfinished charts. It was such a relief to climb into bed and relax, without having to worry about poring over case file after case file, examine every last detail of every person-unsub and otherwise... and every single crime scene they examined. It was physically and emotionally draining. So now... Spencer Reid planned to sleep for the next 14 hours... blissful, uninterrupted sleep. ahhh...

ring. riiiiing. RIIIING.

Though he knew it was illogical, he thought the phone got gradually louder...

RIIIIING!

and shriller with every ring.

How was it even POSSIBLE. That his phone was ringing? What happened to 4 days off? what happened to his much needed rest? Groaning, he reached blindly over to his bedside table, nearly falling off his bed in his halfhearted pursuit of the phone. Finally, having pried himself from his prison of twisted sheets, he grabbed the offending object from the floor where it had fallen, and checked the caller ID. Just as he had anticipated, it was JJ. And when JJ called him... It was almost never good news. Sighing heavily, he pressed talk, speaking with undisguised disgust at the sudden interruption of his holiday.

"yeah. Reid. What?" He checked his watch with a yawn and awaited her response.

"... Spence?"

He paused in confusion. JJ didn't sound like her usual composed self. There was a slight break in her voice, and she sounded faint... as if afraid.

"JJ... are you alright?"

"Er... yeah. Spence, we need you down here right away, okay?" She tried to mask the slight quaver in her voice, but being the genius profiler that he was, reid saw through it easily.

"JJ, is everything okay? You sound kind of... freaked out."

He frowned slightly when she didn't respond.

"JJ?"

"yeah Reid, I'm okay, just get down here okay, Hotch wants you to be here in 30." With that there was a click- and a long dial tone, signaling the end of their call.

Reid held the phone away from his ear in surprise. JJ rarely lost it like that. He rose from the bed, a crease forming between his eyes. He knew he should ignore the call. But his instincts were screaming for him to consider it more closely. He grabbed the appropriate work attire from the drawers to his right- a white dress shirt, blue cardigan, black silky tie and grey corduroy pants. All the while, his mind whirred on, analyzing his short conversation with JJ.

He tried to pass it off as a sadness or disgust stemming from the latest case... but he was sure he had heard a distinct fear in her voice. He pondered this as he showered and dressed for work, worried for the young woman he considered a sister...

He glanced in the mirror on his way out the door, finishing the loose knot in his tie, and sliding on the nearby black high top converse. grabbing his gun and badge from the foyer table, he turned the knob of his apartment door, and hurried outside. all the way to work his fingers thrummed impatiently on the steering wheel, his face screwed up in concentration. Was she hurt? Was she trying to send him a message? It was unnerving... not knowing what was happening... the complete and utter guesswork... he relied on his brain.

But all he had now was gut instinct.

Finally, he pulled up to his workplace, parking hastily, and striding purposefully towards the place that would provide him with answers. He pushed open the heavy glass and metal door, and flashed his ID at the security guards before pushing insistently at the elevator buttons. When it arrived, he boarded quickly, pressing the appropriate button as his foot tapped impatiently. Finally it began to move, and he looked at the wall above him, watching the numbers change, until it finally reached 6. With a ding, the doors slid open, and Reid was met with complete silence in the usual bustling activity of the BAU. Of course the entire floor had been given the 4 days holiday, the particularly brutal cases handed off to other departments. Reid pushed open the next set of doors, and glanced around the bullpen, which appeared to be completely empty. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he turned around, glancing around the empty room at the sudden feeling he was being watched. He frowned, lines creasing his forehead. He walked steadily forwards, debating whether he should draw his gun from the holster at his hip... then deciding against it. His instincts could be wrong...

It could just be that he had misread the entire situation. There was no real evidence. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Forcing himself to relax, he quietly ascended the stairs, and walked to the conference room. The door was very slightly ajar, and Spencer walked towards it, his face a mask of confusion and curiosity. He slowly pushed open the door, and his eyes met those of JJ, who was directly across from him, bound to her chair, and gagged. The rest of the team was around her, all shaking their heads violently, terror in their eyes.

"Wha-" Reid was cut off by a blow to the head, and he crumpled to the ground. He did not get up. The rest of the team watched him fall,

their expressions tortured. Morgan tried in vain to free himself, eyeing the man looming over Reid with loathing. He just chuckled, as he took in the 7... all of them at his mercy.


	2. Chapter 2

He swiftly pulled Reid from the ground, dragging him over to the table with some difficulty-then binding him too to the nearest chair. Blood trickled down from Reid's forehead, and he remained unmoving.

Cocking his head to the side, the unknown man smiled at the young genius, before turning to the others.

"Dr Reid finally decided to grace us with his presence." He smiled pleasantly at the furious faces before continuing,

"So we can finally begin with this little-game I've arranged."

"are you ready?" He smirked at them as they struggled again against their bindings.

"Ah, silly me, I forgot to remove your gags."

The 6 agents were desperately trying to keep from losing it. Garcia sat closest to the door, her back facing the rest of the BAU. She had silent tears streaking down her face-and JJ sent her what she hoped were comforting looks from across from her. Morgan sat to her left, his eyes wild with anger. Prentiss sat next to him, trying to figure out a way to get out of the predicament they were faced with. JJ sat next to her, then Hotch... then Rossi-both of whom were attempting to keep their faces expressionless, and keep their cool-while they tried to signal to their agents what had to be done next. Reid was stirring slightly in his spot between Rossi and Garcia. The Unsub surveyed the havoc with pride before removing Garcia's gag. She whimpered slightly before biting her lip. Morgan looked even more agonized at her discomfort. When his gag was removed, he shouted at the madman holding them hostage.

"I'll KILL you you sick son of a bitch! I'll personally ensure that you-"

There was a thud as he was punched hard in the jaw, and was silenced immediately, though his eyes remained fierce.

The unsub's mouth was set in a hard line.

"Don't threaten me agent Morgan." oh, he didn't like his tone at all. Like Morgan was a child being told off.

He gave him a stern look before moving on to Prentiss, then JJ, and so on, until all of them stared at him intently, able to speak, but staying silent, choosing to profile his behaviour instead, their minds working quickly ahead. The unsub merely looked bored.

"I'm sure you know that your 'profile' will be utterly useless. I've showed you my face, therefore I have absolutely no intention of letting you leave here alive." He smiled again.

"Look, Dr Reid is awakening, how perfect. We can let the festivities begin!"

The agent was indeed moving, his eyelids opening halfway. When he took in his colleagues worried expressions, and the unfamiliar man with a gun... he suddenly sat up straight, his eyes opening fully, before he winced in pain, his head throbbing from the blow.

"what the hell?" He spoke quietly, frowning at the intense pain.

"Nice of you to join us dr Reid. As I'm sure you've noticed... I've taken your team hostage. BAU's finest locked up on their own turf... unable to stop me." he laughed.

He walked in a slow circle around the table, occasionally running a hand along their chair backs, or touching an agents hair as he passed. they flinched back from his touch.

"It's amazing how easy it was to disable the camera's and incapacitate you all... lure you here. It was almost amusing..."

He stopped mid stride.

"You don't even remember me do you?" He questioned.

"did we upset you in some way?" Hotch asked, keeping his expression neutral.

"Yes Agent Hotchner. Yes you 'upset' me. You upset me very much. Well, it was actually Dr Reid who upset me. Do you remember me Dr Reid?"

Reid squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

"y-yes, I do."

"Oh, well that's nice to hear. Tell me... who am I Dr Reid?"

Morgan stared curiously at the youngest team member, who spoke again, his voice wavering more with every word.

"Y-you're Austin Dowde, You were the brother of Jeremy Dowde. I... I killed him. I killed your brother." The team exchanged confused glances.

"H-he was a-an unsub who raped 8 women, and-and"

Austin slammed his hand down on the table and Reid jumped.

"NO. NO he DIDN'T. That is where you are WRONG. That's the part where you killed an innocent man!" He screamed in Reid's face, and the genius blinked rapidly, trying to lean back and distance himself from the man.

"NO, you LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU!"

"enough." Hotch said quietly from his spot 2 chairs down.

"Why? Why should I stop? This man killed my only family!"

"I know. He shouldn't have. He made a mistake. he was eager and just itching to use his weapon... He killed an innocent man because he was inexperienced."

Dowde stared at him for a long moment.

"Your profiler mind games won't work with me. I will still punish you. ALL OF YOU. For killing my brother. For finding the wrong man." And with that he pulled a large black bag from beneath the table, and set it down with a thunk on the table in front of them. All eyes went to it.

"Let the games begin."


	3. Chapter 3

"Wh-what's in there?" Garcia's lower lip quivered as she spoke, her eyes filled with fear.

"In here? Oh... this and that." He grinned at the colourful tech, as he set a hand on the bag, slowly undoing the zipper...

"You see, I did some research... on all of you. Found out quite a lot actually..."

He paused, looking down at the bag that was now unzipped. Prentiss tried to subtly crane her neck to see inside, but could only see blackness... frustrated-she looked at her superiors for any indication that they could see it's contents... but saw none.

"Read a few files... It was quite interesting really, it's ridiculous how little security there is on these FBI computers, a little bit disappointing..."

"You hacked into the government database?" Rossi spoke up, raising an eyebrow. Dowde turned to him, thrilled that someone had asked him.

"well... not me exactly, but a friend of mine. He was very cooperative..." He fished something out of his pocket, and let it flutter to the center to the table. Garcia's eyes went wide, her mouth falling open into a shocked 'o' at the image... of her boyfriend. Dowde laughed at their various expressions-ranging from horror, to shock at his betrayal to disappointment.

"Yes. Kevin Lynch. Really, you put a gun to someone's head, and they'll carry out your every plan. Do what ever it is that you want..." He smiled warmly at Garcia again, leaning forwards as if to scare her. she scowled at him.

"Anyway." He leaned back and made his way back to the open bag.

He pulled out a gun, a knife and a small pouch, setting them out in a triangle in the middle of the table.

"Kevin pulled up some files for me, and I read all about miss Garcia's little fiasco a few years back. The shooting?"

Her face blanched at the mention of her near death experience, and her eyes shot to the gun, praying he wouldn't use that particular weapon on her again. He picked it up.

"And I thought... well wouldn't that just be the perfect prop to bring to this little circle?" He held the gun to her chest and she inhaled sharply, her heart beating wildly under it's barrel.

"Leave her alone!" Morgan snarled at Austin, and his eyes narrowed, though he did remove the gun.

"You'll talk... when asked to." He leaned in very close to the man.

"Don't worry agent Morgan. You'll get your turn."

Prentiss and reid exchanged anxious glances.

'What do we do?" he mouthed.

She shook her head before opening her mouth to reply-but Hotch shook his head violently at his agents, not wanting them to get into more trouble then they already had.

Her mouth snapped shut with an almost audible click.

Dowde had missed the entire exchange as he tried to intimidate Morgan. Seemingly satisfied, he smirked and returned to the 2 objects on the table, exchanging the gun in his hand for the knife.

"Where were we? Oh yes. And then I read an article about the reaper. Sad story wasn't it?" Hotch tensed up. He would be the next to play Dowde's sick game.

"Your ex-wife was murdered, correct?" He moved over to The unit chief and sat on the table in front of him before continuing.

"But before that... he stabbed you didn't he? Over... and over... and over again." He dragged the knife lazily along Hotch's face. He didn't flinch.

Seemingly upset by this lack of reaction he dragged the knife down to his kneck, pressing in just enough to draw blood. Hotch's wince was almost undetectable, but it was enough. Dowde released the pressure, and returned the knife to it's spot, finally picking up the pouch. The others looked curiously at it, wondering what could possibly be held in a pouch that small. Grinning, Austin Dowde, slowly pulled it open...

Reaching inside, Austin smiled directly at the youngest member of the team, before pulling out a small vial of cloudy liquid. Reid's face seemed to drain of all colour.

"No. Nonono. No please don't do that. Please..." Reid shook as horror overtook him. His eyes were suddenly glued to the small bottle of dilaudid in front of him. He struggled violently in his chair... but to no avail. Dowde seemed to get some sick pleasure at seeing the genius's intense discomfort, and he proceeded to pull out a tourniquet and a needle, listening to Spencer's pleas for him not to do it. The rest of the team was outraged. Of course they had been concerned for the other agents safety, but it appeared he was just messing with their minds... he would never kill or maime someone so early in the game. It wasn't in his profile. But he was willing to weaken them. This time, he was serious. This time... he seemed to have every intention of injecting the substance into Reid's arm.

Horror welled up in Spencer's chest at the thought of getting injected with dilaudid again, of relapsing and falling back into his addiction... he couldn't deal with it again.

"No, Please, please! I can't, not again... please don't. I don't want it!"

His earlier words from his days inside a freezing cold shed- reverberated in his head as Austin moved closer and closer to him, his eyes wild with happiness at his desired outcome.

"Yes Dr Reid. Yes. You see I was reading all about your little addiction... about that shack in Georgia where you were tied up, for what was it? 2 days? Tortured and drugged until you died on the floor, isn't that right? I can't help but think how much better my life would be if the, 'unsub' hadn't saved you. So I thought... why don't I mess with you. You are just another junkie..." He had reached the young doctor early in his speech, and had rolled up his sleeve, exposing old tract marks of various stages of healing. Reid was too horrified to be ashamed.

"Don't do this Austin. He's an FBI agent, and he's clean. You know this is wrong, you know he's not just a junkie... he's a cop. You don't have to do this." Hotch had to interject, the team was getting more and more worried as Dowde had tied the tourniquet, Reid squirming desperately in protest, the chair squeaking with his every move.

"I do have to do this. It's not like I'm killing him. Not like I'm doing something he didn't do himself. just bringing a little more justice into the world..." He filled the needle with the drug, and expelled some from the top, with a flick, eyes trained on the liquid, madness burning in their depths. He finally, slowly lowered it to Reid's waiting arm.

"Don't you touch my baby boy! leave him alone you sicko!" Garcia had had enough of Spencer's weak protests. She couldn't stand it any more.

Dowde merely sent a glare in her direction.

"Shut up."

"NO. Please god no, don't do it, please." silent tears had begun to trickle down from reid's pleading eyes.

"Hey look at it this way... at least you'll forget all this..." And with that, he slipped the needle into the young man's arm.

Reid's protests died on his lips, his saddened and horrified eyes glazing over. He felt the effects almost immediately, the world slipping away from him as his head lulled back against the chair. He clawed against the darkness, terrified that he would succumb to it's depths... then he was engulfed in blackness.

Austin completely ignored Morgan's roar of disapproval... the sobs from Garcia and the defeated expressions on the teams faces. He had won. With those few seconds... he had ensured that Reid would go through months of hell. He congratulated himself silently, smiling lightly before turning back to the group.

"So..."

Morgan was livid.

"You crazy bastard. You know how long it took him to give that up?"

"I can imagine yes."

"YOU-"

"Morgan. It won't help." Hotch sent a murderous stare his way.

"That's right 'Derek'! Listen to daddy... Who cares that your addict buddy was just shot up full of drugs? As long as you're following the rules!"

Morgan looked about ready to filet him alive... but he stayed silent. Biting his lip to keep from screaming.

Dowde laughed maniacally, throwing his head back.

"What to do next? Maybe get one agent to shoot another... or maybe I'll stab Hotch eh? Or mess with Spence here while he's unconscious! I have all the time in the world! And before I'm through... all of you. Will be dead."

A/N~ I hope the characters aren't especially whiny or out of character... Feel free to tell me if it bothers you. :) As it is, the feedback I've received for this and other stories has been very appreciated. I'm thrilled that you actually enjoyed it. Anyway... I think a couple of people have been confused as to why Austin is here. Well. He's a psycho. He believes the BAU is personally responsible for his brothers death, and for all subsequent mishaps in his life. Like any other unsub, all he wants is revenge, and sadistic pleasure. Hopefully, as the story unfolds, this will become clearer. Thank you! Reading and reviewing is awesome, even if it's only to give me a few words, or a quick scan through. Until the next chapter...

I bid you adieu.


	4. Chapter 4

A little short, but hopefully good. I really appreciate all the reviews guys. It's awesome, and it really makes me want to update. :)

It was quiet for the time being, though Reid muttered in his sleep... about pain, and sinning. It tortured the BAU team to listen to his agonized words... but they had to keep their cool... any of them could be the next target.

"So. Agent Jareau. I hear you have a son." JJ's eyes flashed and she jerked forwards in her chair to stare him down.

"If you touch, If you _touch_ my son, I will murder you with my bare hands, you hear me?" She hissed, her hands closing into fists. He simply nodded vaguely at the distraught mother.

"It all depends on the game I play. You see I've set up a system. I'll go around the table and pick a particular agent. I'll give them a choice. Which agent is tortured... a family member or an agent to die... and we'll continue in that fashion. And if you refuse to answer, I will simply use my... "supplies" on all of you. No one agent can be tortured twice in a row. Do we all understand the rules?"

"You're insane." Rossi replied, staring, mouth half open at Dowde. He grinned.

"That may be. But what have I got to lose, eh?" He spread his hands wide with the statement.

"Alright. Let's get this party started- well, as soon as the good doctor wakes up from his drug induced nightmares." He snorted.

Morgan struggled against his bonds once again, though he knew it was futile. Couldn't someone be around the BAU? Anyone?

Austin walked to the far wall and crossed his arms, cold eyes trained on the sleeping form of the resident genius.

Minutes ticked by, and the agents willed Reid to stay asleep, in hopes that rescue might come. But the BAU was silent and undisturbed. After a good half hour of complete silence, Reid began to stir once again, his eyelids struggling to raise. It was a relief to see the caramel depths of his eyes, though it was marred by the feeling of terror that rose with his eyelids. The game would begin now... Reid straightened slightly in his chair, and the others watched anxiously, looking for long term effects of the drug. He immediately winced at the pain that shot through his skull for the second time that day, and grabbed the arms of the chair for support. He groaned quietly.

"Damn it. You gave me dilaudid." It wasn't a question. He knew the feeling all too well.

"I can't believe... I hate it. Why...?" Morgan shook his head, he hated the dejection in the kid's voice.

"You don't hate it Dr Reid. If you did you wouldn't have shot up every day. Risked your life and others on the job. Do you really think you can handle a gun when you're high out of your mind? You lied to your team Dr Reid. You betrayed your family, for this little bottle here. Is that hate?" Austin's voice rose with every word, fingers clenched around the bottle that he raised into the air. Knuckles visible under strained skin. Tears threatened at reid's eyes.

"No. I... I got past it, I got help, I went to NA meetings, I went through detox by myself... I've been clean for over 2 years." His jaw clenched as he worked against the angry tears that built up.

"I... I'm stronger then I was. I won't use again." He said the words, though he seemed to be reassuring himself more then anyone else.

"I don't believe you Dr Reid. Once an addict, always an addict. Isn't that right? I bet you think about it every day don't you. You don't get over a serious addiction overnight. You will use again. But enough about you. Let's begin." Reid's head hung in shame. He heard the truth behind those words, try as he might to deny it.

Garcia wished she could give her boy a hug, and get that expression off his face. It was the same one they'd seen after Georgia. After Owen Savage. After Elle and Adam and Gideon. He was admitting defeat.

"Alright. Beginning with... hm, let's see... oh. Miss Garcia."

"No... no." she looked from Dowde to the team, willing it not to be true...

"Please don't make me! I can't choose something like this! Please..." Dowde frowned deeply, and slapped the technical analyst hard across the face. Morgan struggled desperately, yelling a string of obscenities at the offending man. He ignored him.

"Do. It." She bit back tears, and nodded jerkily at the man. He deliberated for a moment before speaking again.

"I want you to choose. Shall I torture a member of this team with a weapon of my choosing... you don't know who, or with what. Or... shall I shoot agent Morgan here?" Garcia drew in a large breath, and let it out shakily, punctuated by a sob of despair.

"D-don't make me. Oh god no, I can't just choose like that... I..."

"Do it, or everyone at this table gets tortured."

"I... I..." She looked around at her family. Her life. She couldn't possibly choose one of those innocent souls, one of her babies to go through this. And her eyes rested upon her chocolate cupcake, her honey bunch... She couldn't bear him getting shot. She knew she couldn't.

"I choose..." She bit her lip. The surrounding agents nodded their encouragement. Their eyes pleading for her to pick them and end it. She hated them for it.

"The unknown. The First one. I choose the first one." She closed her eyes against the disappointed eyes of Derek Morgan, and the relieved faces around her.

"I thought you might. I Also know you-as profilers can anticipate who's up first."

"You just drugged reid. Isn't it against your 'rules' to torture him now?" Rossi spoke up, peering up at his captor with disgust.

"No. Not at all. Drugs were psychological torture... the chance to weaken him. The physical torture comes now. And of course, we all know psychopaths lie." He smiled. Reid didn't seem the least bit afraid. He sat upright in his chair, gaze steely and fixed upon the man in front of him. The man he now loathed with every fiber of his being. Any trace of tears was long lost. His smile fell a fraction.

"Alright, alright. I'm starting with someone different, but I do have a special form of torture in mind for him..." Morgan looked ready to rip his head off.

"Okay agent Prentiss. Are you ready?"

A/N~What do you think... "What have I got to lose, eh?" Too Canadian?


	5. Chapter 5

Her head jerked up at the mention of her name, but she didn't give any indication of fear otherwise.

"Agent Prentiss?"

"Yes." Her voice broke. She cleared her throat.

"Yeah. Bring it on." He chuckled.

"I was hoping you might say that." Never breaking eye contact, he reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of pliers. She stared at them continuously as though they might simply disappear if she could only refrain from blinking... If only that were true. His eyes glazed over with glee at her reaction, and he circled the table to get to her. This guy wasn't just in it for revenge... He got off on watching their pain. At watching them choose who to be tortured. He was sadistic. He kneeled down at Emily's side, and held her struggling hand straight.

"No." She hissed through clenched teeth.

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes. Miss Garcia chose you." He beamed at her, eyes more and more wild by the second.

He closed the nose of the pliers onto her index finger and she shook violently. There was a terrible yelp of pain as her nail was yanked from her socket, and blood flowed immediately over her hands. She cried silently, tears falling thick and fast into her lap.

She bit her lip, clenching her other fist tightly and trying desperately to keep her breathing under control. His breathing too was shallow and he looked desperately excited by the torture. Eager to keep going, he moved on to her next finger and closed his eyes as he reveled in her scream. The other team members kept up constant objection with every fingernail. He took five. Three from her right hand and two from her left. She was bleeding profusely now, a steady stream dripping like a leaky tap onto the ground, her crying now very audible. Garcia looked absolutely horrified. She kept blubbering apologies. Over and over, as if it would somehow reverse the decision she'd made. She had caused this. It was her choice. Dowde was thrilled. He had never thought that the reaction he wanted would be carried out so perfectly! It was... amazing. Finally he stood. Her hair was matted to her face with sweat, her hands trembling. She gave an occasional grunt of pain but her breathing seemed to ease up.

"See? This... this was punishment." Austin looked happily at his blood coated hands.

"Mr Dowde. You've made a point. It was received very clearly. If you stop now, we can ensure now that you are paid back for the loss you have suffered. We won't arrest you. If you-"

"No. Even if that were true, I wouldn't stop now. My 'point' is to make you feel the same pain I did. It hasn't been adequately expressed just yet how much pain that was."

Rossi shrugged at the team. He had to try.

"Should I give miss Prentiss something to relax her?" He reached towards the pouch he had left in the center of the table. The agents jumped at a sudden bang. The table shook as Spencer slammed forwards in his chair, hands clenched into fists.

"If you go anywhere near her with dilaudid, I will make it my personal responsibility to put you down."

The unmistakable truth reverberated around the room. There was a collective intake of breath from the agents. They had never heard that sort of authority in his voice before. And yet he hadn't raised his voice. Hadn't given a real indication of rage or fear. Just a command. One that ought to be followed. They prayed it wouldn't push Dowde over the edge and make him kill someone... but the truth wasn't lost on Dowde, and he backed away from the pouch, attempting to merely look smug and bored.

"Alright." Austin took a deep shuddering breath to keep his emotions under control, and turned to Morgan.

"Agent Morgan." Morgan sent him a look that frightened the other agents in the room. It was the same expression of countless unsubs they had locked away. To be on an agents face, was... unnatural. It was a hunger for pain. And murder. A desire to kill. It disappeared from his eyes soon after he took in the frightened expression on JJ's face. He sent her what he hoped was an apologetic look over Dowde's shoulder.

"Agent morgan." He repeated, looking frustrated.

"What?" He grimaced at Derek's tone.

"Do as I say or Penelope dies. Use this knife... in a method of your choice... on Agent Hotchner." He showed a manic enthusiasm for this course of action, and Derek gawked at him.

"What? No. No, I'm not gonna stab my boss-" Austin released the safety on the gun that was presently pointed at Garcia's head. Thick tears mussed her colourful makeup as they slid down her face. Derek's eyes widened at his baby girl. He nodded at her as tears built up in his eyes.

"Do it." Morgan looked up in surprise at the new voice. Hotch was staring him down, his message clear. Morgan closed his eyes.

"I can't man."

"Just do it." A lone tear fell down Derek's cheek at the impossible task before him. He knew he couldn't let his girl die. Couldn't live with the unbearable truth that he had killed her. So he nodded again. and for the first time in his life, Derek Morgan stuttered.

"F-fine. I... I'll do it." Austin laughed.

"Perfect."

A/N~ Again, kinda short. I promise the next chapter will be double the size of this one. :) By the way, I apologize if some of you are confused about my use of the letters 'ou' in words like colour, humour, and favour... it's the Canadian spelling, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. Sorry if it's been the cause of confusion.


	6. Chapter 6

He slowly undid the restraints on the agent, trying to maintain eye contact with him through the process. Before he had finished he picked up the gun and pointed it at Reid.

"And if you try anything funny... this one dies." Morgan closed his eyes against the disappointment and fear that engulfed him in waves. He had hoped to take advantage of the time he had unbound, but the unsub had unfortunately considered that... threatening his girl, then his best friend. People he couldn't live without.

"Fine." He looked at the man he considered to be his little brother, who had his eyes closed. He didn't look too great. The drugs had made him shaky and who knows what else... the poor kid was white as a sheet. Finally, his bindings were gone, and he stood up slowly. The unsub held the gun against Reid's temple. Morgan put his hands up, and Dowde relaxed, putting the knife on the table and sliding it over. Derek stopped it and walked over to Hotch like he was walking towards the chopping block. He couldn't believe it. He spun around... away from his boss and towards the smirking Austin, knife raised, if he could throw it just right...

Too slow. Dowde was enraged. He swung the gun back and around... with a sickening crunch, it made contact with Reid's face. He couldn't help the cry that escaped his lips upon contact, and he squinted his eyes tightly shut at the sudden pain that erupted just under his eye. Morgan reached out to him, but Dowde fired a shot into the air. The others winced at the noise. Morgan sent an agonized glance at Spencer. A stream of blood trickled down his face, and the area under his eye had bruised quickly. Dowde was getting exactly what he wanted. The team getting injured and broken from the physical and emotional torture. Morgan sighed. His lip trembled slightly as he breathed slowly in and out. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't his fault, it wasn't his-

"Sometime today, preferably." Right. he had to freaking stab his colleague. His friend. he raised the knife slowly, and Hotch nodded at him. Encouraging him... This was so wrong. Derek brought the knife slowly down to Hotch's shoulder and, grimacing, dragged it along in one swift swipe, eager for this torture to end for both of them. He didn't want to prolong the agony. Hotch's eyes widened at the sudden surge of pain, and he clenched his jaw against the groan that threatened to escape his lips. He knew it wouldn't help his subordinate. Morgan was all about trust, and friends and team work. This would kill him. So Hotch closed his eyes and clamped his mouth shut. Ready for the next gash... Dowde rolled his eyes.

"Harder. Make. Him. Scream." Morgan bit his lip as silent tears sprung to his eyes.

"Come on man. I can't."

"Ahhhh..." Morgan opened his eyes and whirled around just in time to see Austin draw back from a punch to Reid's face. He rubbed his knuckles at the contact, and Morgan was overwhelmed with the urge to throttle him. He exhaled deeply and braced himself for what he was about to do. 1... 2...

He turned abruptly and stabbed Hotch in the other shoulder, his face contorted in pain, his eyes apologetic.

Hotch cried out at the sudden agony when Morgan reclaimed the knife, pulling it quickly out of the bleeding wound. The steady flow increased to a gush. Hotch let his head fall back against the chair as he winced... and Morgan stepped back quickly.

"I'm so sorry man." Hotch nodded through the pain, and tears gathered in his eyes. He tried desperately not to give the bastard the satisfaction of a wince... but every movement triggered a sudden burst of pain, and bright lights danced in front of his eyes... his focus was disappearing. Blood blossomed on his blue dress shirt and dripped onto the floor. The rate at which Dowde was breathing was quickly climbing and becoming shallow with excitement once again. He snatched the knife away from Morgan, who gratefully fell into his own chair, shaking. Austin cleaned the knife on Hotch's shirt and set it in the center of the table. He smiled.

"So who's up for round three?"

"Alright... Who to choose... Hm. Agent Prentiss. I don't Believe you've chosen yet." Prentiss was nearly reduced to tears by the approaching madman. And she bit her lip to keep her emotions in check. She had to look at this objectively. She wasn't used to feeling this out of control.

"I believe I've waited long enough to give young Dr. Reid a turn, don't you agree?" Even if the question wasn't rhetorical, the agents wouldn't have answered. They merely turned to look at Reid, who looked remarkably unsurprised. Prentiss braced herself. Whatever he said might be bad... but she was determined not to choose Reid and give Dowde the satisfaction of torturing him. Another small part of herself admitted that she just couldn't watch him get hurt again. Rossi was casting worried glances at Hotch... then Dowde... then reid. Hotch's head kept lulling before righting itself. He might've just been warding off sleep, if it weren't for the crimson stains soaking both arms. He was fighting a losing battle with unconsciousness, and the team knew it was only a matter of time before he passed out from blood loss. meanwhile, Dowde eyed Reid with a keen interest... as if he might suddenly escape if he took his eyes off of him.

"Agent Prentiss. Shall I use this- on dr Reid." He reached towards the bag, and pulled an object out. The team identified it immediately.

They were crushed by it's presence in the room. Suddenly, Images of Reid filled their minds. broken and bloodied. Horrific crime scene photos... they were repulsed. horrified. One by one the reality of using that device dawned on them and they made varying noises of disgust and pain.

"Or cut a body part of my choosing off of one of your family members." Prentiss's jaw dropped. That was by far the most terrible decision they had been presented with. Could Reid even survive through that? But a body part... they could end up choosing a child or... or... she already knew her answer. Dowde laughed mockingly at their devastated expressions. Hotch was more alert now, his mind only on his son, his expression tortured. Dowde could easily cut off an arm or... head. JJ was sobbing softly, knowing Henry and Will would be on their walk right about now. Will would've gotten groceries already... probably given in and bought Henry one of the toys he pointed at excitedly on his way past. JJ smiled slightly at the thought, though tears continued to stain her cheeks. Garcia thought of Alex... Doug, Sam and Eli. Her brothers. They were good people. Sweet and kind people. She couldn't stand it if she lost them too. Of course Morgan was terrified that his girls would be hurt. Desiree... his mom... Sarah... he couldn't live without those three women in his life. Rossi was worried for the others... though he himself didn't really have any family left. Reid just wished Prentiss would hurry up and pick him. He couldn't imagine a world without his mother. What if... No. Prentiss would pick him.

The turmoil within the 7 agents was almost visible, and Prentiss hated that she had to choose. But she knew she had to pick him. It wasn't right to let this vicious lunatic get his hands on their families.

"I pick..." Reid nodded at her. She had to pick him. But god would it hurt.

"I'm sorry Spencer, I have to... I have t-to pick you. I'm so sorry." She sighed and prayed the bastard wouldn't go overboard. She wouldn't be able to stand the following few minutes.

"Wonderful. Really great." Dowde grinned. Morgan felt sick. He was relieved. He was relieved! Dammit, how could he be relieved when his little brother was in danger. The other team members fought that sick feeling of relief. part of their family was safe... but what about the other? What about Reid? He was young and innocent, and they offered him up to a deranged psychopath. He was strong, but damn. Could he take this? Soon, the short lived feelings of halfhearted relief vanished. Dowde was approaching, object in hand and he smirked at the genius. He was shaking. Dowde stopped and looked at the quivering young man and chuckled to himself for one long moment. Reid tried to calm his nerves and prepare for the unbearable pain he was about to endure. Austin nodded to himself, before untying the profiler. he undid the bindings slowly, deliberately. He continued to strive for unbroken eye contact. He seemed to savour the power he had over the agents. This was acknowledging that power. Spencer closed his eyes to escape his glare, but was slapped.

"Look at me, boy." Strange. That was the first time he had addressed one of them by anything other then their official title. It was unnerving. And the moment reminded him strongly of Georgia. Almost enough to make him vomit. he fought against the urge, swallowing when the creep in front of him finally finished.

"Get up." Reid stood on wobbly legs, stumbling back when pain shot through his head. Dowde cleared his throat and ordered Spencer to take off his sweater and tie. Reid did so as quickly as possible, slender fingers faltering. Austins scrutinizing gaze never let up. The young agent untucked his shirt and stood up straight. he was determined to face this like a man.

"Turn around. Hands against the wall." Something inside Morgans stomach clenched at the turn of events. This would be torturous. One of the worst possible ways to be hurt. Garcia and JJ watched fearfully, eyes filling with tears at the young man's bravery. Hotch and Rossi were filled with a profound sense of pride. Prentiss couldn't hold back the undisguised agony that filled her and overflowed in the form of salty tears that she didn't bother to acknowledge. She had gotten her friend into a horrible situation. And Dowde would enjoy every second of it. He was turning into a sexual sadist who got off on other peoples pain. Austin cracked his neck, and watched the genius position himself, sleeves rolled up, hands against the wall, and head down. This would be bad. dowde laughed a final time, before raising the whip into the air.

A/N~ Firstly, I apologize I'm a bit late in updating, it's been a hectic week! Secondly, I'm not sure that they actually mentioned the name of Morgan's other sister. So I made one up. Same thing with Garcia's brothers. As promised, this chapter was a tad longer, so I hope you enoyed it. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Time seemed to stop. There was a beat of silence. A dense worry saturating the air... then the whip was brought down. It cut through the air in slow motion. It was a flash, a crack, and then a scream of agony.

That scream would haunt the team for a long while. Time seemed to start up again as the whip was drawn back. Reid's legs had nearly given out, and he had fallen forwards a bit, his back tensing up, as the excruciating pain had burned through his body. He hadn't meant to make a sound, but that was... it was unreal how painful that was. His hair was matted to his forehead, a sudden sweat coating his body. It was a challenge to stay upright as the blood dripped down his back. A long diagonal gash was oozing blood. The whip had easily cut through his shirt and flesh like it was nothing... and had torn a strip of skin away. Reid breathed deeply, but was given no warning for the next lashing. And the next. And the next. Every time, he cried out. His voice breaking and dropping in volume as he lost more blood, and more and more pain was brought upon him. His forehead rested against the wall, and his hands were slowly slipping. Oh god it hurt. Another searing pain was brought across his back.

"It hurts..."

he couldn't help it. Every time he thought he could take it, another surge of pain would overcome him and he'd beg for mercy. Dowde looked down at the whip, his mouth curled up in a smile. This was the most satisfying of all. Bringing pain upon the man that had ruined his life. And watching the team cry. He whipped him again, and reveled in the cry. Reid slipped another fraction, and collapsed. it was a wonder he had lasted this long. he turned.

"You see? This is what happens when you destroy a family. I destroy yours! Look at him? Does it make you sad? Does it make you feel guilty? LOOK! He's barely awake. Look at boss man over there. Bleeding to death. How does it feel watching Reid get tortured while your unable to stop it? Oh I'm sorry. Of course, it's happened before. This is becoming a regular thing now isn't it? ISN'T IT?"

The room stayed silent, save for the cries of pain Dowde had elicited from the bleeding man on the floor. Dowde grinned triumphantly, casting glances around the room. Prentiss had recovered from her wounds, but her eyes were misty and her mouth had fallen open sometime in the course of the last 5 minutes. Reid had been whipped time... after time... after time. And she had chosen that for him.

It didn't matter that it was the right choice. It was hard to feel that way when he was crying and begging for it to stop. It pained them to see him so vulnerable. His usual shield had fallen away... leaving a raw broken shell of the quirky genius they all loved. She had taken it away from him. And it killed her. Hotch tried to focus. For his team... for Reid, but the blood loss was tying him up and forcing him into darkness. His eyes slipped shut. Rossi was sick of this son of a bitch. This was... crap. This was utter crap. They had killed his brother...what? 2 years ago? And he sunk into such overkill... to kidnap and torture an entire team of FBI agents... it was-well it was unheard of in his time. Each of the team members wore their individual expressions of sorrow.

Garcia had begun sobbing out broken screams for her junior G-man... Morgan-who had been shouting the foulest words he could think of with every strike of the whip... was calling out softly now, trying to coax the young Dr. into getting up. JJ just closed her eyes and focused on breathing. If she could breathe, she would live. She would be okay. And if she would be okay... then she could escape into a place where they were all okay. Where they lived through it and laughed and talked together. In reality, she knew they were all going to die. And her turn was coming. She could feel it.

"Get up, boy." reid struggled to his knees than panted out

"I-I can't. Please, I can't do this."

"GET UP." Reid flinched back from his yell, and grabbed the wall for support. Every cell in his body screamed in protest. His back continued to burn like he had backed into a bonfire. He was not going to recover anytime soon. Finally, he stood, relying completely on the wall to stay upright.

"This is exceedingly painful beating team. being whipped. A stabbing is like child's play compared to this. And you 6 are lucky enough to have front row seats."

CRACK

Morgan flinched heavily at the sound of his friends cry. It was no longer a yell. There was no strength behind it. It was a defeated sob that caught in his throat. Oh Man. He was glad he didn't have to do this to the kid. It would've completely broken his faith in humanity. Finally, after another lash, The bastard dropped the now blood coated whip and forced reid upright. He growled in pain. The agents stared at the younger man's back. If you could call it that. It was a bloody mess of ripped flesh, and it made bile rise in their throats. They couldn't imagine how the owner of that back felt... He gave little indication of the agony he was in, though it was evident in the way he moved. Thankfully, he was turned around quickly, hiding the blood and gore from view. He was dropped back into his chair. He hissed as his exposed flesh made contact with the chair. This was more pain than he thought he was physically capable of handling. He let out a few pained moans as he was tied back up. Tthe surrounding agents looked at him worriedly. He was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his shirt hung in tatters at the back, and the only salvaged parts were coated in thick red blood. Before Hotch, they hadn't thought a person could lose that much blood and survive. The contrast of Reid's ghostly white complexion with the splattered scarlet liquid was shocking. His eyes were red rimmed. The team tried to smile comfortingly, but realized they would never begin to know the pain he and Hotch had just been through. Spencer looked like crap. Sickly, pale and bloody. And Hotch didn't look much better. Who knows who he would prey upon next. They had no way of knowing that 4 floors below, units were assembling, and phone calls were being made to two people they had never imagine they'd see again.

"No, the BAU is all out sir."

"And you're sure it was a gunshot?"

"I know the sound of a gunshot when I hear it sir. About 45 minutes ago." The worn grey haired agent grimaced.

"And you think... what? That someone's taken the entire BAU unit hostage?"

"No sir. Everyone's accounted for except agent Hotchner's team."

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes sir."

"Then we'll need to call in the big guns."

"The... the big guns sir?"

"The best damn profiling team in America could be in the hands of a murderer. And who knows the mind of a murderer better than a member of that team?"

"I'm confused sir. If they're being held hostage, how can they help us?"

"They won't. But I know who can."

"But-"

"Shut up agent. I've got a couple of phone calls to make."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise at his superiors tone as he pushed past him, picking the phone at his desk up and dialing a number on the slip of paper in his hand.

"Hello."

"Yeah, I'm from the FB-"

"Is there something you need?"

"I need your help Mr Gideon."

A/N~ I'm aware that this was crazily short, but I couldn't continue... not with a juicy cliffhanger like that on the line. ;) Sorry for the delay, I hope you're enjoying this so far, again- In case you missed it on TDOSR as I have decided to call it- (The death of Spencer Reid) I've decided to update weekly, Tuesday, if that works. I love reviews. They make my day. I'll try to write more next week! Until then...

Toodles. :)


	8. Chapter 8

An old silver volvo pulled up in front of the BAU building and a man who thought he would never return... stepped out. He paused and shielded his eyes from the sun, looking up at the intimidating silhouette of the FBI building in worry. Was his team alright? How long could they hold out? Sighing, he slammed the car door shut with an audible snap, and made his way quickly towards the doors of the building. He pushed against the cool metal after a seconds hesitation, swinging the door open and striding across the tiled floors of his former workplace. It was strange to be back here... almost as if he'd never left. It had been a shock, to say the least, that the FBI had called him after years away from it all. He had been stunned... but he knew that his team needed him. Hotch, Reid, Morgan, Prentiss, Garcia, JJ. He needed to help them. Shaking his head sadly-He searched his pockets for a moment before realizing that his ID wouldn't be there. He was no longer an agent here. Huh. His mind continued to dwell on the well being of his former team mates, Considering the possibilities of what was going on 6 floors overhead. Was an unsub robbing them? Holding them at gunpoint? maybe trying some terrorist act from inside the building... ? You didn't exactly break into the FBI by accident. Or maybe it was more personal. He had snapped back into his profiling mind set. He knew he had to to his best work one final time for the safety of the people he once considered family. He had received a visitor tag upon giving his name to the security guards, and was now on his way to the second floor, where agents were gathering , and figuring out a plan of action. He glanced up at the numbers on the elevator wall and rubbed his temples. Every second he spent here, another one of the agents could be hurting. Finally, the doors shot open and he stepped quickly out, glancing around the all too familiar office. Countless faces passed him in a blur. Some seemed to recognize him, pausing, and doing double takes at the sight of him. Some pushed past without any acknowledgement that he was there. He didn't recognize a single face. It was unnerving. Finally, he rounded the corner and his eyes fell upon an extremely familiar person. One he hadn't seen in over 4 years.

Elle.

She was talking rapidly to the man who seemed to be in charge, gesturing angrily. Gideon waved slightly from his spot near the door. She caught the movement and looked up. Her mouth opened and multiple emotions flitted across her face. Shock. relief. Anger? She waved him over with the call of his name. He strode quickly over to where they were, the agent she talked to swung his head around at the mention of the ever famous former agent Gideon. He stopped in front of them. usually he would go straight to the evidence and look it over. Get inside the minds of the unsub. But they had nothing to go on. So he stood awkwardly in front of the 2 figures.

"Gideon." Elle nodded.

"I was... surprised to hear you left the Bureau 3 years ago." Jason nodded vaguely.

"It was time to move on." She looked slightly disgusted. As if the notion of his leaving the team was despicable. As if she hadn't done the same.

"You left as well Elle. It was a choice. One I had to make. I would have thought you would remember that feeling." She stared at him for a long moment before speaking.

"Let's focus on the case alright? It's better for the team." She cast her eyes down and the agent to her right began speaking.

"My agents down here say they heard a gunshot about an hour and a half ago. We were able to determine how many agents were inside with the use of heat sensory cameras. All seven members of the team seem to be locked inside the conference room. As far as we know, this is a hostage situation. And we're treating it as such. Number one priority is contacting the unsub. If we can learn more about him, maybe we can get him to stand down. We don't know why he's doing that, or how he got past security undetected, but we're working on it. Any questions?" He looked questioningly up from the video feed of 8 figures in the round table room.

"Yeah. I've got one. How the hell did you let this happen?" Elle's eyes flashed with anger. Her family was in danger.

"Elle..."

"No. Gideon, come on. everyone's thinking it. How did they let a probably armed unsub get through security undetected? Huh? It's ridiculous! And now, 7 agent's lives are in jeopardy..."

"Elle, there's nothing they could've done. You know better than anyone how well unsub's can charm their way in. Until we know more, blame should not be placed on anyone." Elle quieted, but her eyes still burned.

"Fine." It was almost childish... the way she talked to the senior agents around her... but then she'd never been one for following the rules. She definitely got her point across. Gideon initiated eye contact with the agent.

"What's your name?"

"Hendrickson sir. Jerry Hendrickson."

"Agent Hendrickson... I want to make the call."

Dowde was humming softly to himself. Glancing around at their terrified eyes. Some seemed to be resigned to their fate. He finally seemed to finish the song, and he stood upright, pushing off from the wall where he'd been leaning.

"Okay... okay... hm. How about you agent Rossi. You really haven't gotten any excitement..." Rossi continued to look pissed off. Of course he was next. As long as he took the hit for someone else...

"Okay, I'm getting bored, so choose a victim that I can shoot. Agent jareau... or miss Garcia."

Rossi's lips pursed. Two defenseless... sweet young women.

Well this was awful. It wasn't the unknown, or being forced to do something. It was choosing one woman over another. Like being asked which child he liked better. JJ had a son. A fiancee. But Garcia had been shot before. Would he kill them? Or shoot them in the leg or arm? Oh god. He tried to think of himself as objective. The strong one throughout this entire exchange... but He couldn't choose one to die.

"Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. If you don't choose, I'll just shoot you all."

"You're bluffing." His eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"You're bluffing. You wouldn't go this far without punishing us all. It's in your nature to break us all down first. You have to torture each and every one of us before you kill us." Dowde's eyes narrowed even more. His expression morphing into a pronounced frown. Then he laughed. expression changing once again to a manic grin.

"You're right. but that just means I'll prolong the suffering here. And since your arguing with me, I'll assume it's a refusal to answer the question. And I'll beat all of you. Nice and slow."

"Hey, wait. No, I didn't refuse. I was merely talking to you. You're looking for an excuse to torture us!"

Dowde was sharpening his knife, a look of mild interest on his face.

"Yeah Maybe. But I'm a psycho, right? And I'm running this whole show. You waited too long. You were defiant. So you all get punished. You seem to be an expert on the rules of the game. Do you not remember me saying that if you refused to answer, you'd all be hurt? DO YOU?" flecks of spittle flew in his direction. Rossi flinched.

"Yes. Yes I do mr dowde." He smiled radiantly.

"Brilliant."

The team was confused. Of all the agents they thought would be too emotionally involved... would break and give up, refusing to choose an agent to die - none of them had expected Rossi. He was the strongest emotionally at this point. Disconnected from the events before them. Almost professional. And yet he stalled. He got them all into trouble. Funny. Well. More morbid and strange than funny.

"Let's begin with the man who started it all... agent Rossi! Let's see... what would you like? A burn? To drown? A stabbing... or maybe be strangled? ooh, no I've got it. Another chance with the whip! I did enjoy that..." Reid's eyes shot open and he glared, murderous, at the madman. He wasn't strong enough at that point to rage and shout, so he merely let his eyelids droop back closed. His momentary fury slipping away. He looked dangerously pale. Hotch was unconscious. And Emily had a dull throbbing in her fingers. Though she knew it would increase to roar once adrenaline had worn off.

"Alright... I think... a burning. Yes. Always go with ones instincts, am I right?" One hand reached for the bag.

A/N~ Really sorry I didn't update last Tuesday, But my computer was being wonky and erased my work. :/ But here I am. No worries, I have not dropped off the face of the Earth. You shall see the end of this story. Fraid I won't update next week either, because I'll be on a blissful seven day expedition to the caribbean. Hope you liked. Comments are awesome.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N~ Slightly more swearing. Not much. Seriously. Barely two words, but for any youngsters (to quote Morgan) out there... Just a warning. :)

Rossi flinched near imperceptibly before glaring at the man. The seconds ticked by.

"Well?"

Humour coloured Dowde's response.

"Just wondering where to start... not much has happened to you in the past few years, hm? Well, I guess I'll just have to use my imagination..." He fished out a branding iron from the depths of the black duffel. On the iron were the initials AD.

"Isn't that just dandy? Now you'll never get rid of my memory..." Rossi clenched and unclenched his jaw. Dowde cackled.

"Right. Get on with it right? Can't help lording this over you for a while. I have been waiting a very long time for this day. I've got to get in my jabs where I can..." He pursed his lips then, dreading what he had to do next.

"I'll... I'll be right back." His brow furrowed. He had to get the heat from somewhere, and he planned to use the supplies at the BAU makeshift kitchen to heat his weapon of choice. He knew this was inevitable, but he didn't want to leave... he'd waited a year for this day. A year of plotting. A year of stewing in his own pain and anger. A year of this shit. And he wasn't going to give up easily. Wasn't going to let them defeat him. Not now.

He stalked out of the room. The agents glanced nervously around. Unsure of what to do now that they could communicate freely. Prentiss was the first to break the silence.

"uh..." She cleared her throat.

"Is everyone okay?" She took a quick inventory of everyone's injuries.

JJ glanced at Hotch and Reid, who's eyes were closed.

"We're not going to last long." Prentiss nodded and closed her eyes. The truth was undeniable.

"I know. Our biggest concern right now is Reid and Hotch." Reid's head swung up suddenly.

"'m fine." He Blinked. "ser... seriously fine." He coughed.

"Yeah right pretty boy. You're a mess."

The others glared at him.

"But... We're going to get you out of here alive, you hear me?" He nodded dumbly.

"I know. You... you always do."

"Damn straight."

Morgan nodded. Then flinched internally. He didn't know if he'd be able to call the younger agent 'pretty boy' after today's beating.

"Okay. Prentiss, you doing okay?"

She nodded. He tilted his head to the side.

"I'm really okay, I'm much better off than I was. Seriously." She nodded again, more to herself. He smiled gently at her before moving on.

"Garcia?" She looked up, bewildered.

"Me? Oh, I'm tip top my love. Never been better." The sarcasm tinging her voice was foreign and unfamiliar. He frowned.

"Garcia, he did hit you. I can see the bruise forming already. She let some air out impatiently.

"You're worried about this?" she looked down at the yellow mark on her cheek.

"Have you seen those two?" She jerked her head towards the agents across from them. Morgan grimaced. He didn't like this newfound hostility from Penelope.

"Okay baby girl. We know how you feel, believe me, but I gotta check to make sure you guys are all okay. Hotch is in no shape to." She nodded shakily, her eyes brimming with tears for the umpteenth time that day.

"kay."

"JJ, you doing okay?"

"Totally fine. He hasn't gotten round to me yet." Prentiss glanced at her. It would really be awful if she was harmed. Henry needed his mother.

"Right. Rossi? You ready for this. It... It's gonna hurt man." He nodded solemnly.

"I realize that. I'll be fine. Don't worry." the team was grateful for Rossi's strength throughout this ordeal. It would be near impossible without the cool head.

"Reid. Hey reid. You doing okay man? Reid?" Reid's eyelids slipped open. It felt like he was being forced into involuntary unconsciousness a lot today. What happened to his weekend of freedom? It seemed like a far off dream now. His attention was caught when he realized the team had been trying to rouse him for several minutes, and from the sound of their voices, weren't dealing with their lack of success very well.

"Hmmm?"

"Reid. Thank god. You were scaring us man." Morgan exhaled his worries from the past 30 seconds.

"I told you, 'm fine." Garcia smiled sadly at her boy.

"Sugar, we need you to tell us if you're okay. Really." She paused momentarily. And as if she'd read his mind, or the forming of the word fine about to fall off his tongue, she said-

"The truth baby cakes." The frown he wore deepened.

"That... fuck. It hurt like hell." The surrounding agent's eyes widened. Reid rarely swore.

"I mean, he just ripped the flesh off my back. The human body isn't meant to withstand that sort of pain. That was just..." He searched... but the words to describe that torture just weren't there.

Garcia nearly broke down. Morgan wasn't far behind.

"Come on man. You'll make it." He glanced up, his mouth forming a half crazed smile.

"You..." he inhaled for a long moment.

"You'd better get me out of this crap." Morgan laughed weakly.

"Yeah. Yeah, I told you. I will man."

"Hotch? Hey Hotch!"

"I... Don't... think... he's gonna wake up man. The blood loss... his body is recuperating." Reid talked weakly and paused often. It took him a full minute to get out that sentence. They were wasting precious time. Time they didn't have. Dowde would be back in minutes.

When Morgan looked back at Reid, he was unconscious. Looks like he'd succumbed to the same fate he was just minutes ago describing...

"Alright. We can all see he's devolving. Gone from revenge motivated, to a full on sadist." Morgan nodded at Prentiss's words, thoughts forming and connecting in his mind.

"Yeah and he's not going to stop until we've all been tortured. And he had a serious grudge against Reid."

"Right. Now he's looking for excuses to off one of us, and it's only a matter of time." She paused.

"Derek... We've got to get them to a hospital." She seemed to deflate, her strong confident facade slipping away. He bit back more tears.

"I know." He leaned forwards.

"I know Emily. But we gotta help them out of this. We gotta do what we do best. We gotta profile." She nodded, sniffing and blinking rapidly.

"That gunshot..." Morgan glanced away from Prentiss to JJ, the moment broken.

"What about it?" She frowned.

"Well... The BAU might be out, but the rest of the building isn't. Anyone could've heard that shot. Help could be coming..." Realization dawned on the other 3 profilers. They should've known. Garcia smiled at her.

"Thanks sugar." JJ cocked her head to the side.

"For what?"

"For hope." JJ shot her a watery smile, as the agents thought rapidly. How would they treat this? Would they contact Dowde? Would he cooperate? It was doubtful.

"He's been gone an awfully long time." All eyes shot to Rossi.

"You don't think he's figured out what the gunshot may have done for us?" He shook his head.

"I have no idea." All heads snapped up at the sound of footsteps.

"Guess not." JJ glanced at the ceiling. If there was a god... where the hell was he?

"Be strong guys." They nodded at each other, keeping solace in each other, finding comfort in the simple fact that they weren't alone. The door flew open.

A/N~ Okay guys, I'm back from my vacation. Yay. As promised, an update, Although I'm afraid my other two stories will have to wait for tomorrow. This chapter was prewritten, but I've only written bits and pieces of DOSR and Beautiful Disaster. They'll be updated tomorrow and next Tuesday however, so fear not. Hope you liked this chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N~ It's short. Man, everything I do is so short... Anyway, here you are. On time, unlike my other stories. Enjoy this!

Dowde was pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back. Forth. Back. The team followed his nervous movements with their eyes, wondering if it was a good or bad thing that Dowde was panicking. He had burst in with the branding iron in hand. But instead of gloating and torturing rossi... he just dropped it and started pacing frantically. They had not yet figured out why.

He stopped suddenly, grasping at his hair and falling to his knees. He started muttering to himself, and the team exchanged glances again. What the hell had happened out there?

"You... did... did you call them!" ... another glance.

"Call who?" Prentiss jumped as Austin's expression turned furious and he dropped down beside her, snatching the iron from it's spot on the floor, and holding it up to her eye.

"You know who! Don't play coy with me!" He laughed suddenly, then quieted just as quickly. Had he completely lost his mind?

"Do we?" Dowde turned on Rossi, and Prentiss gasped in relief. Another second and she would have been forced to blink. Even to twitch would send the iron straight into her eye. Garcia sent her a concerned look from across the table, and she nodded back. she was okay. For now. But every agents hope was steadily slipping away... directly into the grasp of the deteriorating man before them.

"YES agent Rossi. I think you know very well what I'm talking about. Agent..." He paused. Whether it was for effect, or he actually needed to gather his thoughts, no one knew.

"...Gideon." The team gasped. Gideon?

"He called." He spat the last part as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

The team was grateful that Reid and Hotch weren't conscious. This news might have sent them over the edge. As it was, the team couldn't believe it. How did he know? JJ cleared her throat casually.

"W-what did he say?" Dowde glared at her, then resumed his pacing.

"Why would I give you any information that you could use against me. That could give you any Hope at all? Hm?" Morgan's final resolve was breaking. Any second he was gonna scream at this asshole. Dowde sensed the loathing that was building up in the hearts and minds of every agent in the room. Well. The conscious ones. He relished the torture. With a start, he seemed to realize the iron in his hand. The shocked expression on his face would have been comical if it weren't for the deadly results of his discovery.

"No matter. He won't stop me. I have time. The time it takes them to reach me on a phone that I didn't smash."

No! That was their only line of communication. Dammit.

"So agent Rossi. It seems you didn't quite evade your punishment. Too bad." He smirked. His new found confidence stronger than ever.

"You ready?"

"Oh yeah. Go ahead. it's an expensive shirt though. Avoid that." Dowde's smile fell again and he snarled at the sarcasm.

"You think this is a game, agent?" Rossi cocked his head to the side slightly. As if the exchange bored him.

"You've told us many times that it WAS a game. Are you saying that it's somehow changed, Austin? that-"

He was cut off by Dowde's furious thrust of the iron into Dave's lower neck. He let out a long, low growl. The team could not deal with this any more. 3 of their agents had severe injuries. Rossi made four. Dowde backed off, panting.

"Didn't I tell you NOT to Question me?" Rossi too was panting, squeezing his eyes shut to deal with the spirals of white hot pain that were circling his clavicle.

Without warning, Dowde shoved the iron into his chest, the sickening sound of flesh sizzling meeting the agents ears. The layer of pain and horror remained strong in the fragile agents minds. But it was different. There were no longer shouts of protest. No anger reverberating through the room. The agents were broken. Now the room was saturated with the sound of quiet sobs and heartache... It was the sound of someone giving up. And all they could do was watch. And cry. And pray.

Dowde had branded him three more times, Rossi had yelled and struggled at the pain, and the repulsive smell of burning flesh that had filled the room. Dowde's hunger for fear seemed to have been satiated for now, and he leaned back against the wall, sighing. He seemed to consider for a moment, then spoke.

"Agent Gideon said you have an hour. I'm sure I can do some damage until then." He smiled a madman's smile.

A/N~ There y'are. I hope you found it to your liking. I seriously love reviews. I don't want you to feel obligated to giving me comments at all, (Seriously. I must be pissing you off.) but they're the highlight of my week. :)


	11. Chapter 11

A/N~ I honestly don't think I could be more sorry. I'm sure I've lost all my readers by now, and I apologize, sincerely, I am sorry. But I honestly have not had a spare moment. The next few weeks, and the last few, are hectic almost beyond comprehension. Finals, huge projects... I'm afraid updates of all three of my stories will be sporadic. But they will continue. I'm not giving up on this story. Just wrote this out today, it's hopefully tolerable. Thank you so much for the people who stuck around. All... Both of you. :) Enjoy this. It's hopefully a touch longer. Sorry to those who were disappointed last time.

JJ shot him a murderous glare. He was whistling now. Circling the table and observing them. It sickened her. Bile rose in her throat, and her mind was clouded over with rage. She glanced at her friends. They were dying. Slipping into an abyss that she couldn't pull them back from. The four of them had been so badly injured... she was afraid to look too closely. And she was no longer terrified. She studied the sleeping faces of her teammates, and the frightened expressions of others, then turned finally to face Austin.

"You stupid, stupid bastard."

He glanced at her sharply, his features contorting in momentary rage before it ebbed away.

"Ooh. And mom comes down swinging. Tell me, 'JJ' how do you feel about a bullet in Morgan's brain? Hm. Or perhaps Henry's?"

She scowled deeply, but recognized the empty threat and continued.

"You have an hour... less now until 10 armed agents burst through that door... and all you're doing is working that tired psychological angle. Please. It stopped phasing us an hour ago."

"JJ..." Morgan shot her a warning glance and she opened her mouth to speak once again, but Dowde stepped up.

"That's enough. Fine. I guess I'll just have to step up my game." He circled again. A predator stalking his next meal. Watching... waiting to prey on their weaknesses. To pounce.

He stopped in front of Hotch. Without a word, he slapped him just hard enough to leave a mark. No luck.

He moved on to Reid and gave him the same treatment. His head lulled and his eyelids fluttered.

"There he is. How's the ole' back?" The downed agent remained silent.

"Hm. Not exactly the heart shattering, weepy response I was gunning for, but what can ya do. And the drugs? You know, I hear withdrawals are a bitch..."

A low chuckle filled the room.

"You're a fucking idiot." Dowde frowned.

"That seems to be a popular opinion today." Reid laughed weakly again and Dowde's expression morphed into extreme confusion.

"You seriously think that's going to rattle me? I know what withdrawals are like. Had 'em. Don't care for them to be honest. But are you seriously just going to stand there and torment me for another hour?"

Dowde spluttered meaningless syllables, searching for the appropriate response. Reid smiled a wavering smile. It seemed to be all he could muster.

"As I thought." With that statement, His eyes fell shut. He gave the appearance of a deep sleeper...

Until he spoke again. A weary tiredness colouring his voice.

"Just... get on with it. Do something already." Dowde swallowed. His face twisted into an expression of disappointment. He enjoyed the desperation he had made them feel... liked that he'd taught them a lesson. But he wasn't done yet.

"This..." He paused her for a disgustingly dramatic shuddering breath.

"Will not do. It's not even... I mean... It's not fun any more." He stopped, sneered, then readied himself for his next declaration.

"I need to kill someone." He grinned.

"Maybe that'll get you to react." He turned, picked up his fallen weapon, and emptied the bullets. All but one.

He proceeded to spin the cylinder. swing his arm around, and fire in one swift motion.

A piercing scream echoed.

Followed by a roar. Garcia sobbed. It was the second gun to be pointed so close to her heart... All the better to stop it with...

She desperately tried to remember the words to a prayer, something, anything to guide her. She couldn't stand games. She wasn't fond of the idea of a round of Russian roulette. A little too deadly for her liking. Her heart continued to beat wildly, pumping urgently, sound reverberating in her ears, filling them with the desperate sound. H-he couldn't hear it... could he?

Of course, Morgan had to rage at the guy.

"What the hell was that? You can't just point that thing all over the place! You understand the reprecussions? I mean, aside from the obvious ass kicking you'll receive when we get out of here? Think, man."

"Oh, that's cute. You think you're getting out of here? Ha. Sure. Also, you'd think, being a - supposedly brainy type profiler man, you'd get that I'm already in trouble." He leaned over on the table, tracing lazy lines along it's surface with his pinky.

"One of your team members might well die yet." He casually slid of the table and circled to Hotch, swiping his index finger along the stained fabric, and rubbing the substance between his thumb and finger idly.

" 'S a lot of blood." Another grin. He acknowledged the answering expression only with a with a charming smile. Perfectly normal. Like Joe the neighbour. Dogsits for you every other week. You know the one. He's pleasant. Only vaguely sociopathic...

"Anyway, down to business, all work and no play, am I right?" Another spin of the cylinder. Another intake of breath...

And then the phone rang.

Reid's.

The all too cheerful tinny ringing that his pocket seemed to emit. Dowde turned sharply to the agent, dropping the gun abruptly, forgotten, to the floor. He took a hesitant step towards the unconscious young man. Then leaned down, cocking his head to the side to see where it came from. It was almost amusing how pedestrian a problem it was. Lost phone. After a moment, he reached down to the left pocket, and searched it for the bringer of the incessant noise... After a moment he retrieved it, eyed it, and flipped it open. He said nothing.

A Vague voice could be heard on the other end.

"Hello?" It sounded so serene... so patient.

"Hello, this is Jason again. Is this Mr Dowde? Hello?" Austin hesitated, closing his eyes to give himself a moment to think. When he spoke, it was low and accusatory.

"You gave me an hour." Morgan could imagine the half vaguely relieved expression Gideon would don at contact.

"I'm aware of our terms. But, I'm calling to... negotiate."

A long silenced stretched across phone lines. Then the terse reply,

"Negotiate?"

"I never agreed to that. I refuse to-"

"Just one hostage Mr Dowde. Let a single team member go, and we'll talk about cutting you a deal." There was another beat.

"Okay." He answered simply. He flipped the phone shut on Gideon's shocked reply.

He turned to Morgan.

"You."

"You're not really needed here, are you?" The more he smiled, the more it looked like baring his teeth... Morgan froze. He felt like there should be some relief. Some undertone of happiness at his release. There wasn't even the faintest whiff. Out there, he couldn't protect them. His girl would be alone. His friends... his family would be out of his reach. Of course Dowde had agreed. Further torture...

"No." His response cut through the silence.

"You can't take me." Some part of him knew this would only encourage him.

"No!, Damn you!" He panted as Austin hurriedly released the restraints, no longer working for some kind of connection. He was ready for development. Bored of his tired old angle. He forced a grin, and pulled Morgan up and towards the door as he struggled. Dowde frowned. Slammed Morgan into the wall. He took advantage of the brief window of opportunity to pick up the gun. Morgan launched himself off the wall, poised for attack.

He didn't reach Austin.

At least not before he turned calmly, took aim, and shot JJ in the foot. He ignored the agonized screams, hoisting Morgan into the doorway. He didn't protest. Before the door swung shut, he turned, gaze meeting Garcia's tear filled eyes.

"That was your bullet."

And then his face twisted - into something the devil himself would recoil from.

A/N~ Man, I love how creepy Austin is. ;) Reviews are nice. Hope you liked.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N~ Hey! So, yes, I'm late again, and yes I apologize again... but I did warn you. I'm an unreliable writer. But I try to make up for it with decent plot points. :) So enjoy! I love reviews, and I seriously appreciate them.

"Move. Go on." Austin gave him a shove, smirking as he did so.

Morgan didn't struggle. His thrashing had faded... given way to defeat. He stumbled forwards now, determination lost. It was as if... the gallows, not freedom awaited him.

He chose not speak.

**That was your bullet. Your bullet. Your...**

He couldn't understand... Never would he be able to understand that kind of evil. He had watched her face crumple to agony, her shoulders sag...

had seen the light go out in her eyes.

He had no doubt in his mind, that Garcia was the most honestly good person of them all. She brought colour into a world of darkness. Shone... a beacon of life and happiness, despite the overwhelming pain. And Austin...

He smashed and destroyed and taunted until there was nothing left. And he didn't understand.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow terrified him. He honestly didn't know who would live and who would die. All he knew was there were two possible casualties, two...

No. This is not the time to remove yourself from things. No matter what they teach you at the academy. You were right there. Saw them get picked off one by one. He had stabbed Hotch.

Couldn't spare his guilt right now. Couldn't sort through that pain. All he could do was try, try desperately to focus. Not on the rough hand that dragged him towards the elevator. Not on the scorching pain JJ was sure to be feeling. Not on the hell he'd been snatched from.

On how to get them out.

The metal of the doors slid together with a clang, and he flinched.

He hadn't even touched him. Had barely scraped him. Just made him watch.

Derek Morgan could deal with injuries.

He could come back from a gun shot with a smile on his face.

But other peoples pain? People he loved... No. He wasn't good with those kinds of injuries. He couldn't gloss over them with some drugs and a roll of gauze. Austin knew that. Which was precisely why he was grinning at him now.

"Frankly, I'm disappointed. Where's the fight in you, agent? Where's all that anger gone?" He cocked his head to the side, curling his tongue behind his teeth in a taunt.

"Hm? Was it a show for your band of merry profilers? That it? All that concern just bullshit to keep them sated? You know-"

He laughed as Morgan slammed him against the far wall of the elevator, eyes burning with hatred. Their was that expression again. The lust for murder. Only no one was here to see it. His hand closed around his throat.

And then he heard the safety click off. He glanced down at the barrel at his chest and chuckled. He released Dowde and collapsed against the wall. Laughter rocked his body. He laughed for a long moment. Struggling to stay upright against the wall. And then it wasn't laughter anymore. The snickers had morphed into uneven sobs. The shaking no longer a result of laughter. He cried for the remainder of the elevator ride, head back against the cool metal, hands clutching the bar for support. Dowde sported a confused smile, gun still half raised, other hand awkwardly resting on the bar. He opened his mouth to gloat at his defeat...

And then the doors were opening again.

... To reveal the pissed off faces of five heavily armed men.

Morgan made no effort to hide his tears. He had no reason to care.

"Sir, please step out of the elevator. Quickly, sir." The man beckoned wildly at Derek and he took a step towards them... Dowde pulled him back for a split second, a shield. He stepped to the side and held his gun out over his hostages shoulder, eyes shooting from one man to the next, desperate to be left alone.

"They'll never make it out alive." He whispered hurriedly, a last, frantic attempt to mess with him.

Morgan drew back with disgust and stepped out of the compartment. he stopped a moment and then turned around. He faintly heard the ding that signaled the closing of the elevator doors. Morgan tensed, looked up at his enemy... and punched him directly in the nose. hard. He barely had time to register the shock on his face before the elevator doors closed again. He ignored the shock of pain in his fist, donning a small smile of satisfaction. He turned again, towards the five, vaguely familiar agents, who were sporting some serious firepower. And then it weighed in on him again. The pain. The hours of torture. The horror on his friends faces. Hotch. Garcia. Reid. Oh god, Reid.

He stumbled. Sounds became hollow and unfamiliar as the surrounding men tried to steady him... and then he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

"You alright?" Gideon gazed questioningly back at him.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Jayje. Oh my god. No, no, no..." Garcia cried violently, barely recognizable as the sweet and rambunctious tech.

Prentiss sported a hard, determined expression, and tried to bring Garcia back to the world. She couldn't handle her like this.

"Penelope. I want you to look at me. Right. just like that. I want you to listen. This wasn't your fault. You hear me? Not your fault. Garcia, are you listening to me?" She strained at her chains, hands closing into fists. She hissed at the spark of pain it ignited in her fingers.

"Enough." Rossi breathed long and slow before he spoke again.

"We need to focus. We're losing precious time. JJ. JJ?" His eyes mirrored everyones concern as he tried to coax the young blonde out of shock.

Her shocking blue eyes had widened in desperation, and her mouth was frozen in a petrified 'o'. She barely registered Rossi's voice gently trying to gauge the amount of pain she was in. His expression turned grim. She wasn't coming back to them. Unfortunately...

they were another agent down, JJ was recuperating, Reid, Hotch and Morgan were out. And he wasn't much better. The only person who remained unharmed was Garcia. Of course, that was physically. Dowde had made sure of that. Oh, he was clever. Or the more likely- horribly sadistic. He slashed at her family. He knew it would affect her most of all. She's not an agent. Just an innocent who loves her family dearly.

Rossi shook his head. His thoughts were becoming strangely muddled. The pain... he couldn't think about it or it would take over.

"Prentiss." Her head shot up, eyes curious. He gazed fondly at her for a moment. She was so strong. She was still so determined, so willing to help. He sighed.

"Are you good? I really need someone capable on this, and you... how are your hands?" She frowned for a second, confused.

"My... Oh!" She glanced down, a trace of a smirk on her face.

"Forgot about them. No, Rossi I'm good. I can throw a punch just fine. If I could get out of these ropes..." They lapsed into silence for a second, Caught up in their own thoughts, quiet only broken by the soft cries of the tech opposite. Rossi's eyes traveled around the group, just... surveying the damage. They came to a stop at Reid.

If only... If only he were awake. Reid knew how to break free of bindings. He was always fiddling with handcuffs. With magic, with picking locks. But he was lost to unconsciousness. He glanced back at his only sane agent to see where her gaze also fell.

"Prentiss? Are you... what is it?" She closed her eyes to shut off the image of her fallen friends.

"He looks so pale." Her voice broke.

Rossi's face fell just a little bit more. He did. For all he knew, the kid was dead. Or his friend for the last 20 years... for all he knew, Morgan hadn't been brought to safety.

A tear slid down Emily's face and she wished she could scrub it away. Her hands strained slightly at the ropes again.

It hurt so much to stew in these emotions. Usually she could push it away. Drink something strong enough to burn it away. Cry it away. She couldn't do those things, not in front of her team. Or what was left of it. But she could ask for help.

"Rossi, we need to make a plan. Dowde only has a half hour left, and he'll kill us all. I don't know how, but he'll ensure that we die in some horrible fashion, one by one. And honestly..." She glanced back at Reid.

"I can't deal with that."

A/N~ I might have been hinting at a Prentiss/Reid thing. ;) But only if you feel like it. Won't pursue. Unless you want me too... :/


	13. Chapter 13

A/N~ Sorry guys. I know, I know. Lateness. Not a virtue. But what can I say. Exams are over, I am free, and summer will hopefully improve updating time by a lot. I tried to write this for you on Friday, but I was post exam, sleepless nights spent studying, dead on my feet exhausted, and I had to delete the chapter like five times, because it was complete garbage. Hopefully this is decent, a tad longer for you guys, and I hope you enjoy it!

Footsteps. Pacing? No, running. A single pair of uneven footfalls... Prentiss closed her eyes and cocked her head to the side, straining, listening. Yes... one set of feet. One. So this wasn't their salvation. She let her head fall back, the temporary spark of excitement stomped out. Like all the others.

She wondered faintly what he could be running towards. Or from. Emily glanced up at her only company in their personal hellhole. He was staring at the door. Intently. Willing him not to come through it? Willing a swat team to break it down? Or maybe just looking at something other than his wreck of a team. Rossi was an interesting man. A surprising man. Always putting on a traditional FBI game face, Tie firmly in place, like his professionalism, and the million dollar novels to prove it. But he showed this gooey, caring, sensitive side whenever members of the BAU were concerned. Committed to no woman, yet passionately devoted to his work. He was a contradiction by his very nature. And not necessarily the team mate she would have chosen to be her companion. Maybe Reid. Or Morgan. JJ or Garcia. But, Rossi... he was surprising. Maybe that's what she needed when their fate was looking all too... unsurprising. Too forseeable. Maybe she still hoped for that revelation Rossi might bring. But she couldn't dwell on this crap anymore. She wasn't even profiling anymore. She'd reverted to psych 101.

"He's running out of time. Fast." A raised eyebrow was his response.

"You complaining?" He sounded a little too faint for her liking, despite the sass he still dished out in her direction.

"I'm just saying. He's gotta be up to something bad. He would never deliberately give up time he could be using to... you know... send us spiraling into misery."

Rossi breathed out slowly and glanced at the door.

'Do you wanna go through the whole profiler charade? Pretend like it would help us?" her mouth twitched.

"Not particularly. I thought maybe a word game was in order, but I have to say twenty questions is the only thing that could make this situation more excrutiating." Rossi chuckled softly... as much as his injuries would allow him.

"So we wait." Her gaze fell at the door where his rested.

"We wait."

"How's he doing?"

Elle appeared in the doorway next to Gideon, who was silently observing his former subordinate with fascination, leaning against the doorframe of a conference room casually. The conference room situated directly below Dowde's playing field.

It remained silent for a moment, and Elle opened her mouth impatiently, to ask again...

"He's a cop. He is acting as such." She snorted.

"Don't give me that crap. He's also a person. A person who just witnessed his family get torn apart. And hey - I might have left, but I still remember how much I cared about this team. Question is... Do you?" It was one of those rare moments where Gideon's patience was stretched dangerously thin.

"Come on. Do you honestly think I've forgotten? Elle, I watched these people for years and years. I watched them because it was my job, and somewhere along the line I got too close, I-"

"See that's your problem. Right there. Mine too. We succumbed to the idea that human relationships were wrong." She jabbed a finger at him, voice steadily rising.

"That all we could have as a family was fleeting. That's why I left, that's why you left. We denied our feelings, until we were only profilers. Until we lost the people we were and became shadows. Gideon, we failed." She bowed her head, and quietly stepped back again.

"We can't let Morgan lose himself. He can't just work and profile and pretend nothing happened. We have to talk to him. Get him to open up to us, maybe..."

"Profile? We can't Elle. We can't do anything for him right now. What's best is to focus on the work. Stewing in his pain isn't going to do him any good." Without another word, he slipped noiselessly into the room. Elle rolled her eyes and followed.

Morgan glanced up from a case file.

"This is all you have on Austin Dowde? All of it? You'd think a psychotic brother of a serial rapist might have a thicker file." His voice had a dangerous edge to it. Gideon continued to eye him carefully, and he sat down fluidly in the chair opposite.

"What's happening up there?"

Morgan ceased the frantic shuffling of papers, eyes shooting up to his former colleague.

"Oh, hell no. You are not profiling me, you are not playing mind games, we don't have time to review my secret pain-"

"I asked what is happening up there. I didn't question what had already happened." Morgan fell silent. There was a long pause, in which Elle, who had been hovering just behind the former agent, moved to sit down beside him. Her eyes never left Morgan's face, and she reached for his hand. He withdrew slightly, instinctually drawing back from the woman who abandoned him. Another moment, and he relaxed, allowing her to brush his fingers softly with her own. He breathed in.

"It's hell in there." His expression fell a fraction of an inch, nearly crumbling.

"Hotch, and Reid, they're hurt... they're hurt to the point that I'm not sure they're going to wake up." Gideon flinched. Elle glanced at him nervously, heartbreak clear in her eyes.

"What happened-" Gideon shot her a warning glance, though his own expression was on the verge of collapse.

"All we need to know is the physical state of the team, and the psychological state of our unsub-"

"His name is Austin Dowde. And I wish he was unknown. I do. But sadly I've spent the past several hours trying to decipher what goes on in his twisted little mind, and the truth of it is, he's insane, he's blood hungry, and he has a vendetta against Reid, and the rest of my team. So here's the state of them. Reid's been whipped and drugged and punched so many times, I'd be surprised if his IQ hasn't been lowered a few points. Or if he's lost brain function entirely. JJ's been shot, and I'm sure is losing blood by the bucket, Garcia is closing off, and I'm sure has lost all hope, Rossi has been burned and branded with the initials of the subject of all our nightmares, Emily has lost her fingernails to a pair of pliers, and is trying desperately to keep composure, And Hotch, oh yeah, I was forced to cut and stab him until he passed out from blood loss. So how is the team? You tell me."

Tension hung, dense in the air, overpowering the occupants of the room, and becoming an almost tangible entity. The former agents sat in complete, deadening silence. They processed the information for several minutes, and Morgan fumed opposite them. Eventually he stood, metallic screech of the chair as he pushed off of it awaking them from their reverie, and throwing the cold water of reality over the room. They had fifteen minutes. To go. To deal with their destroyed team, emotionally wrecked consultant, and violent madman. 15 minutes. They had the length of subway ride to save the BAU.

"This is gonna be good, this is gonna be so good. Finally..." They heard him before he came close enough to hear them. And they looked at each other. Garcia's cries had died down, and she met the resigned eyes of her friends.

"So it's over." Prentiss smiled at the revelation. It was funny after all. The thought that a lack of life would be anything but terrifying was laughable, especially to the fearless Emily Prentiss. She was strong. Composed. That's who she was. But all she could feel at Penelope's broken question, was a melancholy relief. Relief, because death was a welcome companion, a waiting friend she would face with understanding now. Melancholy, because she couldn't bear to see so many young lives snuffed out. She looked at JJ. And then at Reid.

Then she met Garcia's eyes.

"Looks like it." And then the door was slamming into the wall opposite again, hard enough that the doorknob embedded itself in the wall. Dowde grinned at them all, moving to bow theatrically for those of them who were conscious. Prentiss caught sight of a small yellow box. It was achingly familiar... but she couldn't dwell on it anymore. It didn't really matter at this point. Dowde was strangely euphoric, considering his lapse towards unorganized crazy half an hour before.

"I really have been looking forward to this. Mmm. My masterpiece, finally coming to the last movement, the finale, if you will." He threw his arms up, spinning around and throwing his head back to face the heavens that he would surely never reach, and laughed.

"How DELICIOUSLY cliche!"

"Oh, this is exciting. Can you wait? Of course, you might want to, but... well. I have ten minutes to kill you all and there are only so many ways I can do it. Man, I am ecstatic, aren't you?" He was circling the table, stopping to embellish with a hair ruffle here, and a shoulder tap there. Much as he had done in the beginning, he was putting on the theatrics, trying to do his best to draw out his obvious pleasure in their pain. Only his audience had learned to stop paying him such rapt attention. They sat, silent. Stony faced. Ready. Dowde didn't falter. His plan continued to go off without a hitch. He stopped by prentiss, making his face level with hers, and smiling radiantly.

"Time to go out with a bang." With that he slid the detonator carelessly out onto the table.

A/N~ I enjoy cliffhangers. They make me happy. Reviews are always appreciated. :)


	14. Chapter 14

A/N~ Okay, it's been a little over a week, but I wanted to wait until Friday to get back into the swing of things. Then Friday became Saturday. But it was always done I swear! Hopefully I'll update weekly on Friday. :) Though I will be going on holiday at the end of July... anyway, I hope this chapter is okay, I'm not as happy with it as I could be, but it propels the plot forward and that's good. After this, only one or two chapters to go. XD

"Okay, ten minutes people, we're going to want to organize our swat team as the frontlin-"

"Gideon, you've got to let me go in there." Morgans hand raised to clutch Gideon's arm tightly, and the former agent glanced awkwardly at him from his place at the front of the room. He sighed heavily, an expectant team of profilers, police officers and agents alike awaiting his plan eagerly. He held up a finger silently at the now grumbling team of law enforcement officials, and pulled Morgan to the side.

"Morgan, You know I'm not technically authorized to tell you one way or anothe-" he cut him off again, an undertone of pain now lacing his words.

"I'm not asking Agent Gideon. I know I'm integral to this plan. I'm asking Jason Gideon. My mentor. Our father. And friend. I'm asking..."

"For permission?" He was rewarded with a small smile.

"I wouldn't go that far. Maybe... your blessing? An opinion from an old friend." Gideon bowed his head, deep in new thoughts...

"Derek, professionally I would have to say no. You're too close to this, too emotional, too eager for a fight."

"And unprofessionally?" A pause stretched between them for a long moment.

"You're a good agent. You can take him down without endangering the team, and I think you need it at this point." Morgan released a breath of relief and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Thank you." He turned on his heel and disappeared through the masses of uniformed men, Gideon's profile wafting to his ears, even as he took refuge in the abandoned conference room. Or supposedly abandoned...

A broken voice reached out to him through the shadows.

"Do you think they're going to make it?" Morgan squinted through darkness to catch a glimpse of the questions owner, though he knew that voice anywhere.

"I couldn't say." In fact, that was all he could say. Without breaking down into a sobbing mess. And that just wasn't his style. Not in front of her.

Elle's lower lip quivered, and he wondered for a moment if he'd imagined it. Elle wasn't one to cry much, especially for a team she'd abandoned by choice. She didn't care about them. As was made evident by her sudden departure. No goodbye. No explanation.

"I do care." Ah. There it was. Proof that the profiler in all of them never stopped working.

"I care about every one of you. Even Rossi. Even Prentiss. Because I know how they fit into the team. I know what it would mean if one of them..." She gulped quietly. She appeared to be slowly picking up momentum to what he was sure would be a lengthy speech. Before she could spring it on him however...

"Look. Elle. I get it, okay? I'm not ready for 'I understand' speeches right now. I have seven minutes to do much needed profiling." She would not be discouraged. Though her face fell a little, her mind was set on redemption. She sat down opposite him, and smiled what she hoped was a comforting smile.

"I know. You don't want to hear my spiel. And I wasn't going to tell you I understand. I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For leaving. For Hotch, and Reid and JJ. I'm sorry for... all those things. For breaking our partnership. For being absent. I'm so sorry Morgan." She stood abruptly and reached out to him. And at that moment... his energy ran out. The energy to deny her, the energy to not break down, all of it. And he reached back.

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay. I don't know what to do. what should I..." He clutched at his head once again and Rossi grimaced. He hated it when he paced. Never a good sign in psychotics. Dowde was wavering again. His emotions were all over the place... he was riding a wave of ups and downs. Suddenly brimming with confidence, and then the realization of his lack of time would strike again. He was in a paranoid, over anxious 'down' period right now.

Those were by far the most frightening. And worse, Rossi had noticed JJ's head start to lull. Joining the growing population of unconscious teammates he was losing. He kept trying to avert his eyes. Look at something other than the people he failed. But something horrific seemed to be everywhere.

Austin would walk into his line of sight, raving and waving a gun around. Or he'd catch sight of a bloody implement of torture, abandoned on the floor. Or the bruised face of his favorite genius. Or the unnervingly peaceful features of his old friend. Or the blood. The blood splattering the walls. the chairs, the people. It was hard to look at. But it was everywhere. Difficult to avoid. It was the blood of innocents and protectors... and he couldn't close his eyes. That was the most terrifying of all. An abyss, where he was unprotected, and unprotective. Unable to take care of anyone... unable to answer their cries. It was his greatest fear.

"The blonde, she's useless now. Not much I can do to a dying gunshot victim... Boss man is down, The author is fading, and lil miss sunshine over there is not half as much fun to maim as she is to watch when her little ones die. So that brings it down to you two." He pointed obviously at Reid and Prentiss.

"One more round?" No. Not them. Pick me. The speech only sent him into a further panic. It was one thing to know you were mortally injured... a whole different thing to hear him say it so casually.

The author is fading. But he wasn't. He didn't feel... no, right now, he was the only one who hadn't given up. Right now he had to find a way to stop that detonator from going off. Everyone else was either dying or panicked. Prentiss had closed her eyes when she saw the detonator. Just shut down. Garcia had been surprisingly calm. As if her life was finished.

Everyone else had been unconscious.

Dammit, she wasn't finished! They were all so young. They all had so much to live for, and they were letting this bastard take them. He wouldn't let him. He couldn't. It was unbelievable. This whole situation. Just, surreal. His whole team was dying around him. Like soldiers in the battle field, they were picked off by shell after shell... fallen protectors. Only there was no honour. They were stripped of their power before they died. And it was so, heartbreakingly unfair, that he nearly broke down like the others.

"You know what, we all know I'm picking Dr Genius here, so let's get this started. We only have... what, five minutes? I promise you I'll make it count." He grabbed the gun from the back of his jeans, and scooped up rounds from his front pocket.

"This is what I came here for. This is it. This is for Jeremy."

A/N~ In case you forgot from 13 chapters ago, (Hell, I did) Jeremy is Austin's brother. :) Reviews are goodness and light and I shall reward you all with virtual convertibles if you post some. :)


	15. Chapter 15The final chapter

A/N~ Holy crap, this is the last chapter. I can't believe I actually finished it. So I'm pretty happy with this chapter, though endings aren't my forte. I know it's weird that I'm technically updating twice in one day, but your reviews fueled my imagination, and words poured out. Longish chapter, hopefully a satisfying end to a satisfying story. For the last time- Enjoy.

With trembling hands, he lifted the gun to Reid's face, paused there for a moment...

And to the shock and gut wrenching relief of his teammates - kept lifting.

They watched with tentative hope as he raised his arm to near vertical before he fired a shot into the air.

Prentiss closed her eyes again. They'd snapped open when he'd mentioned the two of them, but suddenly... suddenly it was stupid to give up. Suddenly, relief... sweet and soft replaced a fraction of the suffering. And the fear she felt at a friends imminent death? The justice she would bring, the care she would shower upon her more grievously injured colleagues...That was at least enough to live for. Her eyelids flickered open again when Dowde began to rant.

"Wakey, wakey Spencer. Get off your _ass_, and wake the hell up! Are you hearing me?" He stalked away, frustrated, muttering something about wasting a bullet.

"Yes." Austin froze for a split second, and turned faster than Emily's exhausted eyes could follow.

"What did you just say to me?" He crept closer, a slight, expectant smile on his face. It vanished just as quickly when there was no reply.

"Dr Reid!" He barked, grasping a shoulder and shaking as hard as he could. Reid let out a pained groan at the sudden pressure. On his back on his head... shaking... not... good...

"Yes, I-I said I could hear you... please-"

"Please? Do you honestly think I'm going to give your begging any attention? Did my brother feed you pleas for his safety? Did you _LISTEN_?" He swung his arm back, and attacked his face with brutal force. All that could be heard was an intake of breath. Quiet, in unison, the team breathed their pain. It was safer than a yell.

Reid's head shot back, more pain filling his skull at a low throb. He'd _just_ been pulled from unconsciousness, by what sounded suspiciously like a gunshot. Mere seconds ago. Of course, he'd awoken back into this godforsaken hellhole. Of course he couldn't be left to slumber on, in that perfect dreamless state.

"What's going-" He was shoved in the chest, back hitting the chair, hard. He cried his agony to an unforgiving sky.

"Dr Reid. You ruined me. You tore away everything that mattered to me. My family. I'm returning the favour." He clutched violently behind him with searching hands, until his fingers closed around the sides of the detonator. He swung it forwards and held it up to Reid's face.

"You see this? This tiny box... Much like a gun - it looks small. ineffectual. Almost useless. But the association speaks so much louder than it's physical appearance. It's amazing. Something so ordinary, can haunt your dreams forever."

A pause weighed down on them as Dowde trailed off and into deep thought. A flicker of a smirk, then,

"But of course you know that." He jabbed his thumb at his own chest with a growing smile pasted onto his face. His audience remained unreceptive, and he punched Reid in the jaw as if to prove his point before he continued...

"I'm killing your family Spencer. I'm taking them with the press of a button. Like you did with that trigger. When you killed my brother."

When he regained his senses again, Austin's face was mere inches from his own, and even to his hooded, weary eyes, he could see the tears in Austins.

He broke into a whisper.

"You killed my brother." And for the first time in a year, Reid felt it.

He stood in the darkened room once again, eyes trained on the vest in his hands. FBI. The large, bold letters had been imprinted in white on his chest for about 7, 8 years now. But he'd never stopped to ponder what they mean. Beyond the Federal Bureau of blah blah blah.

FBI meant protection. To protect and serve. Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity. He'd learned these mottos long ago. Gone through the motions of training, and learning, and getting into the right macho mindset. He'd known since he was very young, exactly what he wanted to do with his life. SInce the day his father died.

That's what death did. it threw your entire existence into question. Before you really had a chance to decide something, do something for yourself... a death made the decision for you. Because, could you keep working if someone you loved, someone who had cherished the work like you, and guided you in the right direction with his friendship or leadership, was suddenly gone? FBI was strength. And he wasn't sure he had enough of it to carry on. So now he had a choice. Return to a job and a life his friends were absent from... or quit. Stop, and grieve. No, that was in no way Derek Morgan. What would he do with his life beyond law enforcement, FBI was bravery for gods sake, and he had to embrace it to be the officer and agent that he had always aspired to be. Like his dad.

"Morgan. We're getting ready to do this thing. You coming?" He met Elle's inquiring gaze, and knew.

Maybe FBI was just about kicking ass.

"Okay, as far as we know, everyone is in the room with Dowde. We don't know exactly where he'll be, but when we enter here-" The unfamiliar agent smacked a finger down on the entrance depicted on the blue prints before continuing.

"He'll start shooting."

"No." Eyes, at least thirty pairs of them snapped to attention, now carefully sizing Morgan up.

"He.. he'd either take a hostage, or-" Morgan stopped, the next sentence clogging somewhere in his windpipe, unwilling to emerge. So Gideon took up the unpleasant task of making them aware.

"Or make sure they're all already dead." The silence that ensued was almost too much for him. Elle seemed to sense this, and stepped in.

"Look people, either way, we've got to get up there in the next minute or so, and we've still got to get organized and make the climb to that conference room, so let's get moving."

She stepped up, and addressed the room again.

"SWAT is going to take up the rear, and take position here..." She swept a finger across the area surrounding the bullpen where she used to spend her days...

"Agent Morgan, Gideon, Hendrickson and myself will move in at the front, and neutralize Dowde before we get the paramedics in there. Got it? Good, we're going in now." She marched purposefully towards the stairwell and Morgan caught her arm.

"I'd say you've near made up for your abrupt exit agent Greenaway." She smiled.

"I'm not an agent anymore."

"I'd say you are."

She gave him a grateful look before turning again for the stairs and shoving the door out of her way.

"You heard the lady, let's get organized..." Gideon ordered the agents to get into formation, and Morgan breathed in carefully. This was a tricky confrontation. He was way too close, especially if he arrived to see them... gone. Hurt. If he looked at them, any of them, he'd lose it. But he had to defeat him, had to get this guy out of his head, mocking, punching... He had to play it cool, be the agent not the friend. he would.

The four agents neared the right floor, navigating the winding stairs, SWAT team in hot pursuit. They're time was out.

No, she couldn't look at this anymore. She couldn't 3 hours ago, but now... Austin had escalated beyond evil in her books. And her baby boy, that beautiful boy was receiving jab after punch after kick to the ribs, to the face, to any part of him Dowde could reach, giving him an occasional cut with the knife he'd left hours before. and she felt sick. Because he was the best of them. She couldn't fathom a world where a person was punished so brutally for making the world a safer place. She didn't want to. She felt her head was too filled with the bad to ever return to her blissfully oblivious cloud of good. She felt like she was dying. Over, and over and over again. And she was so out of happiness. So out of light. She was so out of who she was, that she feared that she couldn't return. Until Rossi gave her a speck of optimism.

"You're out of time Austin." Rossi looked gratefully at the clock, body relaxing slightly at the idea of help. Dowde finished the last part of his most recent spiel and looked, unbelieving at the clock. He snarled at the sky, at the people, at his own lack of focus.

"Dammit! hell, no." He turned from the beaten, bloodied genius and looked at the clock in despair. He fell to his knees.

"I have to... I have to tell..." He clutched his hair and pulled.

"This has to go exactly how I-" He slammed a fist into the ground, trying to still the whirring of his thoughts. Then, as suddenly as he had lost them, he seemed to snap to his senses and clambered back into a standing position. His mood was up and down, and up and down, and up...

"No, I'm fine. All it takes is the press of a button." he laughed slightly.

"That's right. No worries, I'll still kill you all properly. Good try though David, you had me all messed up for a moment. No matter."

He stroked the bloody knife in his hand for a moment.

"Did you all have fun?" He waited. As if for a rush of affirmations from his literally captive audience.

"I sincerely hope that you did not. My brother was a good man. He taught me everything I know, and he was my greatest friend. You all killed my greatest friend. And now..." He cackled manically.

"Now, you get it. I think this has been the best game ever devised. And certainly the most entertaining. And sure," He leaned over on the table, chin resting in his hand, eyes on the door.

"Maybe your gleaming white knights will break down that door, any second now. But they can't save you. The press of a button my friends. The press of a button."

They emerged on the floor they knew so well, creeping carefully towards the staircase...

"You will remember me, I'm sure. You'll remember Jeremy. You'll feel my pain, and know his. That's all I wanted. You understand right?"

It was a constant struggle. No squeaking, not even the sound of a footfall could be heard in this hallway. The door loomed at the end of their pathway...

"Of course you do. Dr Reid was guilty. He pulled the trigger without a second thought. Hotchner probably gave the order. Garcia used those technological little friends of hers to find him. You all did your part. It was organized murder, you see that now. I told you how this game would benefit you, and you have that clarity now. Like I have for years, you understand as I do."

So close. The door was mere metres away, they could faintly hear the activity within, the muffled words, pacing footsteps, a slight squeaking...

"... So I have avenged him. I'm finally free-"

"No Austin." He only had time for his expression to morph into surprise, before a bullet shot through his skull, tearing away flesh and grey matter, and with it, his pitiful life.

"You'll never be free." The door banged open, calls of FBI resonated through the room, echoing, hollow, as Austin's lifeless corpse fell, with a satisfying thud, to the blood stained floor. Revealing the shooter beyond him.

Reid stood, eyes bloodshot and sunken, shirt torn into tatters and splattered with blood, the gun he'd snatched from the floor in a terrified rush hanging loosely in his hand. His mouth was set in a hard line. He'd never looked more like an FBI agent.

The world was frozen. Everyone shellshocked, everyone rocked with intense relief.

And then he fell. The agony, the exhaustion of trying desperately to be free of his bindings caught up with him in a wave, and he staggered... and fell.

Three pairs of arms reached for him. Morgan reached for his friend. His brother. A man with strength beyond his years. Gideon reached for his fallen protege. His fallen son. Elle reached simply for a man she had underestimated. Who tried. Who won.

Then the world seemed to exhale. EMT's slipped into the room and made a beeline for Hotch, JJ, Reid.

Team members broke down into relieved tears.

Reid was laid gently on the floor by all three sets of hands, and he hissed in pain at the sudden contact.

"Sorry kid." They were the first words to be spoken since Reid's gallant rescue, and went far deeper than a simple apology for his pain.

Reid's eyelids fluttered before Morgan's figure loomed, blurry, at the edge of his vision.

"Did I miss?" Morgan let out a forced chuckle.

"Reid, I don't know how you do it... but whenever random psychos are on the receiving end, your aim never fails. He's dead. You saved us all." He smiled slightly.

"Thanks man."

"I promised you I'd get you out alive, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but that statement could never actually be proven. The odds are-"

"Please, Pretty boy, I thought mortal injuries might get me out of one of your lessons in statistics. Go get healed and all that jazz. I'll check on the others."

Reid nodded. Or jerked his head suddenly, which he took to be a nod.

Standing, he looked down at the kid again.

"Reid. I'm proud of what you did here today. You are more capable than we give you credit for. You're a great agent. And maybe we'll finally remember that." He missed Reid's proud smile as he turned and surveyed the scene. Paramedics were wrapping gauze around various injuries, SWAT had dispersed outside once their services were no longer needed. Gideon was speaking to the man working on Hotch in hushed, worried tones. Elle was trying to coax JJ back to the world of consciousness, and Hendrickson was untying the agents slowly. Morgan closed his eyes. It was over. It was actually over. Reid had used all that crap he learned about getting free of handcuffs or ropes in those magic books, he was sure. He'd saved the day, with simple magic tricks. Derek couldn't fathom the feeling of near peace that enveloped him. Like, the world was softer, safer. Like their lives were still there for the taking. Reid had made them feel that way. Reid had given them that chance. And sure, they still had to defuse a bomb... save some lives, wait, worry, hope, and though the chaos continued in front of him, it was saving, healing, helping, reuniting. The road ahead wasn't sunshine and daisies. But it was there. Reid had paved it. And he knew that it had to be that way. Sure it would have been nice to put a bullet in Austin's brain himself... but Reid was the one. He had to be the one to end all this.

Morgan had made a promise to protect Reid, and to save him from this hell.

But Reid had been the one to save him.

In the end, Reid had set them free.

A/N~Thank you so much for sticking with me through my crazy update times, Those of you reading DOSR, I'll start updating that weekly too.

I hope you loved this story. I seriously loved writing it. Tell me, Review, review, review if you want me to post a sequel. It won't go up immediately if you do. But I'll formulate something for later.

I'm so grateful for reviews, and I would be eternally happy if people who don't ordinarily review, would just drop in a few words. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. And you guys. THANK YOU.

Been an awesome couple of months. I hope you'll keep reading. :)


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